


Chinese Whispers II: Making Waves

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, Drama, First Time, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-26
Updated: 2002-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-01 10:51:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/355830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whitney's bitten off more than he can chew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chinese Whispers II: Making Waves

## Chinese Whispers II: Making Waves

by Ice and Pablo

<http://www.obsessedmuch.net/elegant_slumming>

* * *

TITLE: Chinese Whispers II : Making Waves 

AUTHOR: Ice and Pablo 

EMAIL: ice001nz@yahoo.com and little_claps@yahoo.com 

DISTRIBUTION: List archives OK, anyone else just ask. Archived on Elegant Slumming <http://www.obsessedmuch.net/elegant_slumming/>

SPOILERS: Set during Hothead, spoilers up till then. 

CLASSIFICATION: Lex/Whitney, Clark/Lex implied, Clark/Whitney implied 

SUMMARY: Whitney's bitten off more than he can chew. 

**RATING: NC-17**

FEEDBACK: Would be very much appreciated. 

DISCLAIMER: Both the show and the characters belong to someone else. 

DEDICATION: Thanks to Vicky for the beta. For LaT, I would say sorry but... no _g_. For Rebecca, for being "main cheer-leader" and for Tham, just because.. And as always, to WHO. (WWBKD?) 

NOTES: This is a sequel to Chinese Whispers, which can be found at <http://www.obsessedmuch.net/elegant_slumming/>

* * *

Just for once, Whitney would like things to go _his_ way. 

Every time he thinks things are going smoothly, everything turns to shit and he's left wondering where it all went wrong. 

Take Clark for example. Whitney had gotten to the point where he'd managed to get things at least a little under control as far as Clark was concerned. He'd managed to avoid him at school the past couple of weeks. Pretty much hightailing it out of there every time he saw him, making some excuse to Lana about somewhere else he had to be. It was easy. 

And Lex? Well, luckily the opportunity for running into him hadn't presented itself yet. In all honesty he isn't so sure that's going to be such an easy situation to avoid. 

Whitney has to admit to himself that the experience at the Farmers' Market hadn't been unpleasant. Far from it, in fact. It had been pretty fucking amazing. He can't believe how fantastic it had felt when Lex had touched him. Making him feel the way he'd only fantasised someone would. 

How insanely good it had felt to have another man touching him, making him hard. Saying the sorts of things that Lex had said to him. 

Making him admit how much he wanted Clark. 

//One track mind, Whitney?// 

Thoughts undeniably returning to Clark and just how much of a mess Whitney's found himself in again. 

He's distracted. Not really paying attention when Coach Wallace calls him over. Before he even realises it he's standing face to face with the one person he's been doing everything in his power to avoid the last couple of weeks. His grip on Lana tightens. He can't quite meet Clark's eyes and Whitney finds himself being pulled in by the Coach. He's lost for words at first, but he's soon giving a half-hearted endorsement in favour of Clark joining the football team. 

It's not until he walks away that Whitney realises what an unbelievably stupid idea _that_ was. Too caught up in the moment to really think things through, and doesn't that seem to be a theme in Whitney's life, of late. 

He's thinking how very difficult it'll be to avoid Clark when he's standing right next to him on the football field, after the game... in the showers. 

Oh yeah, the single most stupid idea he's ever had. 

Well, had lately. 

* * *

Whitney's distracted and he doesn't like it. Doesn't like the fact that all it takes is for Clark Kent to be in the same space as him and suddenly Whitney's losing all his composure. _He's_ supposed to be the guy that makes everyone else feel that way. The calm one. The one that everyone else thinks is cool. So when did all of that change? 

He generally prides himself on the fact that when he's on the field, he's in his element. And it's the one thing that he's really good at, the one thing that people give him kudos for. 

But not today. 

He'd lost his concentration early on in the game and ended up running face-first into Trevor. It made his head spin and for a moment he thought he was going to end up on the dirt on his back. But Whitney has a reputation to uphold and not even Clark Kent is going to be responsible for him losing that. 

Whitney also doesn't have a death wish. Nothing is worth the risk of Coach Wallace dissecting him, just like one of those unfortunate lab rats in biology. The only difference is the lab rats have the luxury of actually being dead _before_ the lesson begins. 

Whitney breathes a huge sigh of relief when practice is finally over, but the Coach stops him as he's about to leave the field, and head for the showers. 

"So, Fordman. Kent seems to be working out." 

"Yeah. He is, I guess." 

He watches Clark and Pete joking around. All the boys congratulating Clark on his efforts during practice, but Clark is looking off into the stands somewhere. Looking for someone. His Dad, maybe? 

"He just needs to pay attention." 

Whitney looks down at his feet as Clark passes. And it's probably just as well that the Coach stopped him from going inside. He doesn't think he can cope with watching Clark soaping himself. Seeing Clark's long, muscular body drenched with water as his hands move over skin. That image is certainly going to stick with him for quite some time. And it's only then that he realises the coach has been waiting for a response. "Uh... yeah..." 

It's pretty obvious that Whitney hasn't really taken in anything the Coach has said. The older man just shakes his head, muttering something about teenagers needing discipline as he walks away. 

* * *

"Hey Whitney, wait up?" 

//How the fuck?// 

Whitney had deliberately left class a few minutes before anyone else. Thought that would have been enough time to get away, but as usual, avoiding Clark Kent seems to be an impossible task. He stops in his tracks and sighs inwardly shoulders slumped. Tries to regain some sort of composure before he turns around to face him. 

Whitney somehow finds himself staring at the boy's mouth. Impossibly full lips that are just begging to be kissed and licked. He wonders what Clark would taste like. He's almost sure it would be something sugary, like cotton candy. Light and sweet and something way too easy to overdose on. 

//Composure? Yeah, right.// 

"Hey, Clark. What's up?" 

Clark clears his throat. "I just thought ... well, I thought I at least owed you a thank you for what you've done." 

"You think you should thank _me_? Why?" 

Clark sounds nervous, he looks down at the ground and Whitney thinks that's just as well. At least when Clark's not looking at him, he doesn't have to meet his eyes. 

"I mean, I know your opinion matters around here and I just thought I should at least say thank you for putting in a good word for me." 

"Uh ... sure, Clark. It's the least I can do." He can't believe that Clark is _thanking_ him and for what? Some off-hand remark that the Coach wasn't really listening to anyway. It certainly wouldn't have swung Wallace's opinion one way or the other. Once he makes his mind up about something, he's unstoppable. 

The last thing Whitney wants is Clark thinking he's in his debt. 

"I know we haven't always been friends, Whitney. You know, with everything that's happened... But since we have to spend so much time together now and all, I ... I was hoping that maybe things could be different?" 

"Uh ... sure." 

His assent just seems to spill out of his mouth, and this is most definitely not good. He doesn't want to be an asshole. Clark looks really happy right now and God knows Whitney doesn't want to hurt him. But being Clark Kent's friend is just about the worst possible scenario he can think of right now. 

Spending more time with Clark, getting to know him and maybe liking him even more than he does now is not something he can afford when he's trying to curb the feelings he has for him. With Clark it's not just the way he looks, there's also that kind of adorable goofiness that he so often displays. Not to mention the fact that he seems to want to see the best in people no matter what they might have done to him. Yeah, a decent guy, the sort of guy you want as a friend. Or more. 

But that's not the only issue. Spending more time with Clark means seeing Lex. He knows he can't hope to avoid him forever but he needs to postpone the inevitable as long as possible. He's hoping the level of need will fade so he can at least be able to hear Lex's name without his palms starting to sweat, his breath coming in short bursts and his cock taking on a life of its own. 

He has even been avoiding going to the Farmers' Market for that very same reason. He doesn't know how much longer he can keep making excuses to Lana for not going. He just can't quite think of being there without the image of Lex pushing him up against the stall. Leaning in, touching him... all of it. 

Whitney is caught up in the moment again and it takes him a minute to realise that Clark's still speaking to him. 

"So, you gonna be at training this afternoon, then? Coach keeps sitting me out and I was hoping I could maybe get to play a little today. Make sure I don't make too much of a fool of myself if I ever get the chance to actually play a real game." 

"Not sure about today, I've got ... uh, this thing and I don't think I'm gonna be able to make it." And could he sound any more unconvincing? Whitney can't believe that he's even gotten himself into this situation in the first place, let alone the fact that he's still standing here talking to Clark. No, not _talking_ , stammering would be a more accurate description. 

"Oh, OK. I think I'm finally getting my head around those plays the Coach is making us go over. Well most of them, anyway. It's been a little hard. Most of the guys seems pretty on top of it and don't seem to have much time to help out. I mean I know what it's like and all but like I said, don't wanna make a fool of myself." 

So very _not_ subtle. 

"Uh, yeah. Look Clark. I gotta go. Maybe we'll catch up later on." 

He just needs to get away from this whole thing and try to sort his head out, to be able to think. He'll give credit to Clark, though. He's definitely persistent. 

* * *

Lana's cutting the stems from a bunch of geraniums when Whitney arrives at Nell's store. He can't help but think from the look on her face, that _he's_ about to be cut down to size as well. She hasn't seen him yet, but she's got that expression. The one she reserves for those occasions when she feels the need to reprimand him. Just like his mother. And isn't _that_ just all too easy. Dating someone who's like his mother. Someone who's familiar. Safe. 

Normal 

And most importantly, female. 

"Hey." 

He tentatively approaches her. As soon as she sees him, he realises he was misreading her . It's concentration, not anger, that's been written all over her face. Just goes to prove that he doesn't pay enough attention to Lana. He never _really_ knows what's going on, even when she's right in front of him like this. 

"Hey, yourself." She smiles at him and after Lana kisses him on the cheek, Whitney moves away. He wanders around the store looking at nothing in particular. He doesn't want her to suspect anything, but Whitney knows his behaviour's making her more than a little suspicious, despite his best efforts. 

"Is everything OK, Whitney? You seem a little distracted." 

"Me? Uh ... just this whole thing with the cheating. I mean, you were right. What you said about it earlier." 

"You're worried about how it might look for the rest of the team?" 

Lana moves in and puts her hand on his arm, which only makes him feel even guiltier. Lying to her, again. But what is he supposed to say? That he's not coping with Clark being on the team because he hasn't been able to stop thinking about him? Oh, and Lex Luthor jerked him off and he _really_ liked it? 

Yeah, he can just imagine the explosion that would accompany that confession. 

"Yeah, Lana. I am." 

Her voice is gentle, almost a whisper. "Look Whitney, if you don't feel up to going out tonight, I'll understand. If you just want to be alone, it's OK" 

But alone is the last thing he needs right now. Alone means he has time to think, to obsess, to tie himself up in knots. He can't afford to have time to process all of this. "No, no... it's fine. Like I said I'm just a little distracted. I promised I'd take you out. I'm supposed to be saying sorry, remember? 

"Yeah ..." Lana pauses. "But I'm not the one you should be apologising to right now, am I?" 

Whitney gulps. "What... what do you mean?" 

He stares at Lana, his mouth slightly open in shock. She's uttering the same words that Lex said to him that day and he remembers them so vividly. The way his mouth moved when he spoke. Whitney's palms are clammy and he wipes them on the sides of his pants. He can't get Lex's voice out of his head now. Can just see himself, Lex holding him by the waistband of his jeans, unzipping him, hand moving inside and... 

"Don't think I haven't noticed, Whitney. He might not have actually said it but I can clearly see what's going on between the two of you." 

And now he's really starting to panic. Breath coming in short bursts, throat dry. His tongue feels thick in his mouth and he knows he needs to get himself under control. Can't just lose it completely, not until he finds out exactly how much Lana knows. Whitney forces himself to focus as he realises she's speaking to him. 

"So, I wanted to know what you were going to do about it?" 

"Lana, I.... how did you know?" 

"C'mon Whitney. I know you must feel a bit embarrassed about it." She pauses, stroking his shoulder. "He's been able to forgive you. Don't you think you could find it in yourself to be a little nicer to Clark? You know how excited he is about being able to play football. Don't you think you could at least help out a little?" 

Whitney exhales slowly. Realisation suddenly hitting him that Lana has been talking about Clark and football this whole time. He almost laughs audibly with relief, his whole misreading of the situation suddenly seeming very, very funny. 

"Yeah, maybe. I've gotta go now though. OK?" He kisses Lana and moves towards the door. 

"He does look up to you, you know." She calls after him as he walks out of the store. 

."Yeah..." 

Whitney can't help but wonder how different things would be if Clark knew the truth. 

* * *

The Beanery is oddly quiet for a Saturday afternoon, only about ten people in the place. Whitney's pleased that he's managed to time it so that Lana isn't working; he really just wants the chance to sit down with a coffee and relax. He's also glad that it's so empty, because right now all he wants is to be alone. 

It takes a lot of effort and thought into maintaining the Whitney Fordman image. The facade he's created and he's exhausted with the effort. But what choice does he have? Admit to his football buddies that he's crazy about Kent, was even before they strung him up in the cornfield. That he hasn't slept with Lana for other reasons than the fact that she's not ready. That the main reason is that _he's_ not ready and he doesn't believe he ever will be and that fact was made all too apparent by his 'experience' with Lex? 

He knows he'll never be ready because he may love Lana, he may need her, but he doesn't want her. It's not her body that he sees every night when he jerks off. Not feminine curves and long dark hair, but lean muscle, a full mouth and long fingers that stroke him so slowly that he's begging for more. 

He's so very tired. The stress he's put on himself is taking its toll and as he waits at the counter for his latte he rubs his right shoulder. Hoping to at least relieve some of the physical tension that's manifested itself. He gives his money to the blonde behind the counter and picks up the hot drink. He doesn't quite grab the handle and his fingers are slightly scalded by the heat, spills a little of the coffee on the floor. It just proves how much everything is getting to him right now. He's generally never clumsy. He looks up and mouths an apology, looks around for somewhere to sit. 

He sees Clark and Chloe sitting down and walks over to them. Realises that he's going to have to at least try and make nice with Clark, offer to help him. He feels guilty that he hasn't allowed himself to assist him when he really needs it and although Whitney knows it's not the wisest thing to do, Clark of all people really deserves a break. 

"Hey, Clark. Chloe." 

"Hey, Whitney." Totally infectious grin appearing on Clark's face when he sees Whitney. And even if he hadn't made the decision to help out already, who could resist that? Clark's smiles are enough to melt anyone's resolve and Whitney knows damn well that he is nowhere near strong enough to even _try_ and resist Clark now . He already has willpower issues without confusing things further by trying to test them. 

Chloe stands up. "OK, looks like I'm missing the right chromosome for this conversation so I think I'm gonna make a break for it before you two start talking about football and reconditioning engines." 

And no, that's a bad idea, a very bad idea. Chloe leaving means he and Clark are alone and that wasn't part of the plan. "Chloe, don't leave on my account, I was just..." 

She cuts him off. "Nah, seriously, I gotta get back to the paper. If I leave it alone for too long I start having a life and then... well actually who knows what would happen then." 

"Yeah, it's not like you can look back at past experience when it comes to that one." Clark is grinning up at Chloe as she whacks him across the top of the head. Whitney laughs, and hasn't it been a long time since he's actually _felt_ like laughing? 

"Later, Clark ... Whitney." Chloe's looking at Clark with a completely unreadable stare as she walks away. 

Whitney starts to shift his weight a little, nervously. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt." 

Clark looks up at him, shaking his head. "You didn't interrupt anything, Whitney. Sit down." 

Whitney sits down at the table opposite Clark and takes a tentative sip from his coffee, which is still way too hot to drink. "Look, Clark. I've been thinking. There's just been so much going on at the moment and I haven't really been too focused on training and stuff. But if you need a hand I'm more than happy to help." 

Clark looks thrilled and if Whitney had known that it would put a smile like _that_ on Clark's face, he certainly wouldn't have hesitated in doing this sooner. 

"Wow, thanks. Don't let on but I think I could do with all the help I can get." 

"What? You seem pretty much in control of things from what I've seen." 

Clark laughs. "OK, Whitney. You definitely haven't been paying attention." 

"Well..." Whitney starts, "I guess the one thing I would have to say to you is you need to focus. Stop worrying what everyone else thinks and just concentrate on the game. Oh, and you need to stop holding back so much." 

Clark gulps. "Holding back?" 

Whitney's worried he's been too critical. Clark seems to have frozen up a little and that's a look he doesn't want to see on him. "Just have faith in yourself, Clark. You're a great athlete, you just need to believe in yourself a lot more." He leans forward as if to push the point home. "Stop worrying what everyone else thinks." 

Clark looks more relaxed again, starts talking away about how his dad doesn't really approve but that he needs to do it for himself. Starts getting really excited when he talks about the game and Whitney's amazed at how animated Clark is. He notices his smile, if at all possible, seeming to grow in size. Then Whitney looks up and realises why. 

Lex Luthor. Walking over to their table. 

Clark is literally beaming. "Hey, Lex." 

Clark moves to get up, but Lex stops him. Instead, he stands next to Whitney gesturing for him to move over. Whitney looks up at Lex and slowly, reluctantly slides across the seat. 

Lex sits down, knee touching Whitney's ever so slightly. Anyone else and Whitney might think it was unintentional but he doubts it is in Lex's case. He can just see the upturned grin out of the corner of his eye. 

"Clark. You know, the amount of times I see you in this place I swear you're gonna graduate with one hell of a caffeine addiction." 

Clark snorts and nods his head furiously. "Yeah I'll be the guy picking up my diploma going like this..." He starts jerking his head and the rest of his body simultaneously, his eye twitching. Both Lex and Clark are laughing, but Whitney's so nervous right now, he can't bring himself to react. A fact, he notices, that isn't lost on Lex. 

"Lex, do you know Whitney?" 

Lex is looking directly at him. Intense gaze that just bores right through Whitney and makes him squirm in his seat uncomfortably. He wants to look away, but something about Lex just holds him there, frozen. 

"I do, Clark. It's _really_ good to see you again, Whitney." Lex doesn't move, just keeps that eye contact with Whitney, tongue swiping slowly over his lower lip. 

Whitney now knows what people mean when they use the statement 'his heart leaped into his mouth' because he can feel his heart doing just that. His stomach's rolling over with nausea and... much more. 

He just nods at Lex; it wouldn't pay for Clark to notice that he's being stand-offish, doesn't even want to think about what would happen if Clark ever found out. 

"So how is Smallville's newest football star?" Lex turns away from Whitney, directs all his attention towards Clark and that makes Whitney more than a little relieved. Lets his body relax and exhales softly. 

Clark laughs, obviously a little embarrassed. "C'mon Lex, you obviously haven't seen me play." 

"An omission I was hoping to remedy soon." 

"Yeah?" Clark is obviously thrilled at Lex's response and Whitney's starting to wonder just what Clark's feelings toward the older man are. Seems that nobody can make Clark smile like Lex can, and he can't help but wish that he was the one capable of doing that. 

Not that he could compete with Lex, in any lifetime. 

"Of course, Clark. I've heard a great deal about the Smallville Crows. I must say I'm rather impressed with their performance..." Lex pauses, looks straight at Whitney. "From what I've seen so far, anyway." 

"You know, I wouldn't have picked you for a football fan, Lex." 

"Oh, Clark." Lex grins and leans in towards Clark, across the table. "There's a whole lot you don't know about me." 

And Whitney wonders if it's possible for Lex to say anything to anyone without it sounding like a seduction. He has this voice like something really expensive and bad for you, like the good Scotch his Dad keeps locked away. Whitney can't help but feel drawn in by it, even though it isn't actually directed towards him. He thinks that the voice is definitely one of the reasons that Lex Luthor seems to always get what he wants. 

"So, Clark. Tell me how training is going?" 

Clark sounds excited, like sharing this with Lex is so very important to him. Oh yes, Clark is most definitely smitten. 

"Whitney and I were just talking about that, actually. He's offered to help me work through a few things." 

And could this situation be any more fucked up? The three of them sitting together at the table, Clark rambling on about football, but Whitney knows that's not what the conversation is about. He can see the way Clark is looking at Lex. And how Lex is stealing glances at Whitney every now and then. Oh yes, a _very_ fucked up situation. 

"Nice of you, offering to lend a hand, Whitney." Lex turns to him and leans in just that much closer. The proximity is not close enough for Clark to suspect anything is amiss, but close enough for Whitney to feel that much more uncomfortable. Lex is just playing with him, all too well. "You know, you could learn a lot from this boy, Clark." 

Lex's double entendres are not lost on Whitney and now Lex puts an arm around him, grabbing his shoulder in what would look to anyone else to be a gesture of friendship. But Whitney knows it's more than that. He can feel the heat of Lex's hand on him. Lex's thigh slightly rubbing against him and now Whitney's really starting to feel like things are spiralling out of control. 

Clark stands. "So I was thinking I might try moving one cup closer to my addiction," he says as he holds up his empty cup. "You want anything, Lex?" 

"Sure. Just a cappuccino, thanks." Lex pushes a couple of bills into Clark's hand. It looks like way too much money, and Whitney can see Clark's about to complain. Lex just shakes him off with a wave of his hand, and Clark's no match for another one of _those_ looks from Lex. 

"Anything for you, Whitney?" 

Whitney just shakes his head and Clark strides towards the counter. 

"So how have you been, Whitney?" 

He doesn't answer. He feels angry, resentful that he's being played like this, but despite all that, he's not doing anything to stop it. Can't bring himself to get away. And Lex is moving across in the seat so that there's hardly any space between them, legs pressed together. Whitney's starting to sweat, perspiration gathering on his upper lip. He wipes it off with his hand and notices Lex's eyes tracking the movement. 

"I'm glad you took my advice, offered to help out a friend." 

"Lana ... Lana asked me to help Clark." He feels like an idiot right now. He's incapable of keeping control of himself. He doesn't want to talk to Lex, which considering how pissed he is with him, should be easy. But it's seemingly impossible. Not only that, but when he does speak, he can't even string a sentence together. He's coming off like a pathetic kid and that is the last kind of image he wants to convey. 

Lex raises an eyebrow. "Oh, so you're doing all this for Lana? You're helping Clark because your _girlfriend_ asked you to?" Each word loaded with venom and Lex is smirking. 

He's a little surprised at his good fortune. Lex had hoped to run into Clark, but when he'd walked in and saw both he and Whitney sitting talking together he knew this was too good an opportunity to miss. He's not worried about what Whitney will say, he knows the quarterback won't be ready to admit anything, so he's having a little fun playing with him. 

Seeing Whitney squirming in his seat is indeed a lovely sight and the knowledge that he's causing it makes it even more perfect. Something Lex thinks he'll never get tired of. He moves forward, so that he's right in Whitney's face, "surely you don't expect me to believe that's the reason?" 

Whitney stammers, "I... I don't..." 

Lex cuts him off. "Whitney, I know for a fact that there's a brain inside that head of yours, so don't start playing the dumb jock with me. It takes more than a pretty face to fool me," Lex pauses; mouth so close to Whitney that he's almost touching him. 

"No matter how pretty the face." 

"Sorry?" Whitney's stunned; he just sits there staring. Adrenaline courses through his body and his heart is beating way too fast for him to be able to relax, to get himself back under control. 

"C'mon Whitney... I assumed you knew exactly what I wanted." Lex moves his hand onto Whitney's knee. The shock of the sudden movement causes Whitney to flinch. He slams his leg upwards against the table. It makes a loud noise and Clark looks back briefly from where he's standing at the counter. Lex merely nods to him and he turns back, talking the ear off the girl taking his order. 

Whitney gasps as he feels Lex's hand slide further up his leg. This time he doesn't move though, doesn't feel like he can. It's like the part of his brain that controls his ability to move has suddenly left him. All he can do is concentrate on the movement of Lex's hand as it stops at the top of his thigh, thumb rubbing in circles. Whitney's skin is itching, needing... more 

"You..." Whitney's words are laboured, coming out so very slowly, like speaking is the most difficult thing in the world for him to do. "...what you wanted?" 

Lex's mouth is so close that Whitney can feel warm breath on his face. "You know how much I want to see more than just your face, Whitney. How I want to taste so much more. Want to take off those clothes and drink in the sight of your hard body. Strip you down and touch you like you've only ever dreamed about. The way you dream _he'd_ touch you." He can feel Lex's hand on his cock now, not moving, just... there, and he flinches slightly. 

"I'd move my way down that body, licking across those muscles, tasting you. Take the length of your cock into my mouth, like I know you want it. Let you fuck my mouth until you can't think. Make you feel things you didn't even think possible." 

Whitney has never felt so amazing, so aroused. Lex's hand on him while he's describing such _dirty_ things to him. Things he'd only ever read about or like Lex says, dreamed about. 

"And I know you want it, Whitney. Want me to suck your cock till you can't even stand up. And you know what, Whitney? That won't be anything compared to what you'll feel when I fuck you..." 

"Oh God." Whitney bucks his hips up slightly as he feels Lex's hand surround him through his jeans. His cock twitches and Lex grins. 

"When I bend you over and start slamming into that tight body of yours. The way you'll feel when I'm inside you, fucking you. And I know you'll love it, beg for it. I can see how badly you need it. I know a whore when I see one and I'll make you beg for it harder and deeper, Whitney." 

Whitney knows he should be worried about Lex calling him a whore, and that he should be scared about Lex talking about fucking him the way he is. So much more than he ever would have anticipated doing with anyone. But the thing that frightens him the most right now is that he _isn't_ scared. That he _wants_ , that all he can focus on right now is how fucking good this all feels. 

"But it's not me you're imagining is it, Whitney? It's not me that you want to feel inside you. It's not my name you scream out when you come." 

God, Clark. 

Clark who has been so close to them the whole time. 

Clark who is about to make his way back to the table with the coffees. 

Whitney pushes Lex's hand away, roughly. Tries to say something in retort to what Lex has just said, but he just... can't. Lex is grinning and Whitney just wants to hit him, but more importantly, he wants to kick himself. Can't believe that he just sat there and _let_ that happen. God, has he no self-control? 

He stands up and starts to move away. Needs to get out of here before Clark gets back to them and he has to talk to him. He just can't face him right now. Clark is honest and kind and Whitney is... well, just like Lex said. 

A whore. 

He wanted it. Wanted Lex. Badly. 

"Whitney ..." 

Lex's voice stills him, but he doesn't turn around to face him. 

"What, Lex? Christ, what now?" 

Lex's voice is low and guttural, sending shivers down Whitney's spine. "Come and see me tonight, Whitney and I'll make you think about something other than Clark Kent for a while." 

Whitney walks away, brushing Clark's shoulder as he passes him. 

Clark, bewildered, sits down opposite Lex. "What happened there, with Whitney?" 

Lex sips his coffee. It's way too hot, scalding, actually, so he puts it back down on the table and looks at Clark, shrugging his shoulders. Makes sure his tone relays disinterest. "He said he had to go. Not sure why." He pauses, then grins. "Let's talk about more important things, shall we? Tell me how Smallville High is coping with Clark Kent: football player." 

* * *

Whitney thinks he may actually go insane. He's sitting with his parents, pushing the roast chicken his mom cooked for dinner around from one side of the plate to the other All he can do is stare at the second hand going around and around on the clock in the dining room. 

It's funny how when you're totally focused on something, five minutes can feel like an hour. Time moving slower just because you don't want it to. 

"Whitney? Are you alright?" 

He looks up at his mother and attempts a sort of half-smile. "I'm fine, Mom. Why?" 

She lays her hand on top of his. "Well, sweetie, you've been pushing the same piece of food around on your plate for let's see, about ten minutes. Now, honestly, are you alright?" 

He pulls his hand away. "I'm okay. Just not very hungry, I guess." 

"Leave the boy alone, Maureen. He's probably just nervous about the big game next week. Lot riding on that, right, son?" 

"Yeah, you're right, Dad. It's just the game. I guess the pressure's getting to me a little, you know how Coach can be." 

"I do, son. So go out tonight, have some fun. I assume that's why you keep looking at the clock. You and Lana have a hot date, don't ya?" 

And Whitney just freezes. "No, Dad. Actually I don't have any plans tonight. I was going to have an early one." 

"Oh come on, son. Live a little. You work too hard. You should go out with your friends, have some fun. I'll just bet you've already got a few invitations for tonight, haven't you?" 

Just the one. 

And Whitney wonders how well that would go if he decided to share that particular piece of information. 

//Yes, Dad, actually I do have an invitation. You know Lex Luthor? He wants me to go around to his house tonight so he can. Fuck. My. Brains. Out. That what you had in mind?// 

And what's stopping him, really? He wants to go, God, he wants to. But to give in like that, just give himself to Lex, after how angry he was this afternoon? He doesn't know if he's ready for that. Not ready to just deny his feelings for Clark, no matter how much he needs what Lex is offering. 

Needs it, because he wants so deeply. It's eroding him inside, gnawing at him, eating away at him like acid and he knows that pretty soon those holes, those interior wounds will start to show on the outside. And for the first time he doesn't feel like he has the strength to cover them up anymore. 

And when he comes to think of it, what's the point in holding out for Clark, really? It's just not going to happen. And maybe that's _why_ he chose Clark as the object of his crush to start with. A guy who wasn't going to want him back. Someone he could safely admire from afar with no chance of those feelings ever being reciprocated. 

Why would he do that? Because that would be safe. No threat to his self-made image as straight football star, Lana Lang's boyfriend, doting son and whatever other labels he's created for himself for the benefit of others. 

Yeah, Clark is safe. But Lex? 

Christ, Lex is anything _but_ safe. 

Lex makes him burn. He makes him want to give everything up. And today, Whitney came so close to giving it all up without even a moment's hesitation. He was dying for it. Lex wasn't kidding when he predicted Whitney would beg. He may not have done it out loud, but inside he sure as hell was begging, pleading for Lex to just take him and do whatever he wanted. 

To use him. 

And right now? Oh yeah, he needs to be used so very much. 

Doesn't care that Lex is playing him and has been since that day he first touched Whitney. That it was all to do with Clark, all of it. 

It doesn't matter what the motivation is, because Lex is right. He does need to forget about Clark Kent and he knows Lex is the only one who can make him do it. 

But what does that say about Whitney? That he can just sit there, at the dinner table with his parents and consider offering himself to Lex in the blink of an eye. Offering himself up like the sacrificial lamb. Or, more appropriately, the sacrificial virgin. 

It's not like he has any misconceptions about what's going to happen when he gets there. Lex isn't going to want to hang out, talk about football or the weather or whatever the other things are that people talk about when they barely know each other. 

No. Lex wants to fuck him, he knows that and more than knowing it, he's _counting_ on it. He's hoping for it and the thought doesn't scare him in the slightest. 

And what does that make him? A slut? 

He's sure it must do. A few weeks ago he would never have considered this. Cheating on Lana. But the thing is he doesn't feel like he's just cheating on Lana now, it's like he's cheating on Clark as well. 

Clark who is good and pure and all of those things that he isn't. 

And maybe that's the issue here. Because as hard as he tries, Whitney is never going to be a golden boy. He's never going to be anything like Clark, never going to be good. 

He realises now that Clark was his salvation, his personal Jesus, but he sees now how futile his attempts at being saved are. Whitney wanted Clark to grab a hold of him and force him to come into the light. 

And if Clark is salvation then Lex must be the opposite. He's Whitney's damnation, his fall from grace. His own snake in the garden. Until Lex came along there was no danger, no sin. No chance for Whitney to be dragged into something that he'd always wanted but _never_ would have allowed himself to give into. And certainly no chance of his body overruling his brain. 

But Whitney knows better now. He's a sinner and he's oh so weak and right now, there's no way in hell he could be good, even if he wanted to be. 

But that's really the point, isn't it? He doesn't want to be good. It's not what he needs. 

He needs to be touched and taken and fucked. Needs to forget what it was like to feel the light on his face, how warm it was and how much he wanted to stay there. 

And he needs to forget just how much he despises himself because he couldn't. 

* * *

Driving to Lex's he has several near misses, and has to pull the truck over to the side of the road to attempt to focus. To at least manage to make the journey, without having an accident. He doesn't want to have to explain to the nice officer that the reason he's driving so dangerously is that there's sex waiting for him and he thought the quicker he got there, the quicker he'd be, well, getting there. 

After a few moments Whitney gets himself under control and pulls the truck back onto the road. When he finally arrives at the gates to Lex's mansion, the security guard has obviously been briefed that he was coming, because he's standing there waiting for him. He gestures where he can park his truck. 

At the steps he's met again, this time by somebody different. Dark blue coat and starched shirt collar. Whitney's told that Lex is in the study and he simply gestures for Whitney to follow him. 

And that's when the fear starts to hit. Big rolling waves of nausea and adrenaline and God knows what else and Whitney's desperately trying to get himself under control. He knows that he's already made this decision to see Lex, and it wasn't an easy one to make. He knows it's too late to turn back now, but this all just seems so _final_. Like until he'd actually got there, he wasn't really fully comprehending the weight of what's about to happen. 

_Who_ he's about to do it with. 

And what if anyone found out? What would happen to him then? And maybe that's been Lex's plan all along. Seducing him and then outing him. Because wouldn't that be the perfect revenge for what he'd done to Clark? 

Whitney doesn't really know Lex that well, but he thinks he's probably just being paranoid right now and Whitney may be freaking out, there may be uncertainty, but that's not enough to stop him. Because he knows he wants this, badly. 

He's breathing deeply, trying to gain some composure as he enters the house. He hears the hollow sounds of his footsteps echoing the man he's following. Lex's mansion is huge; Whitney can't comprehend how one man can live here alone. He's shown into the study and as he moves into the room, he can hear voices. 

Plural. 

Lex and Clark. 

Whitney watches Lex stand up immediately and walk over to greet him. A hand reaches out for his shoulder. "Why, hello, Whitney. I must say I'm glad you took me up on my invitation." 

Lex's thumb is rubbing his shoulder in small circles, but Whitney jerks away. Thinks twice about the _obviousness_ of his movement and for a second hopes Clark doesn't notice. He settles for simply glaring at Lex and in response, Lex merely smirks and walks back to where he was sitting. With Clark. 

Clark looks up at Whitney. "Hey." 

Whitney's voice is so soft it's barely above a whisper. "Hey, Clark." And right now Whitney's shaking all over. Feels so weak that he thinks any minute now his knees might buckle, and he is _not_ going to let that happen. Not in front of Clark. Because that would take a little more explaining than Whitney's currently capable of. 

He panics, unsure what he should do and he backs away. He mumbles something about needing some air and he doesn't look back as he walks out of the study. Doesn't pay attention to anything except getting the fuck out of there. 

Whitney gets halfway down the hall before he realises that he's going the wrong way, further into the castle. The Luthor house is enormous and at the moment one hallway looks no different than another. He quickly turns to walk back towards where he came in and there he is, Lex. Standing in his path and looking so very pleased with himself. 

"Leave me alone." As hard as Whitney tries not to sound like he's whining, that's exactly the way he sounds. 

"Why? I thought the whole idea of you coming here was for me _not_ to leave you alone?" 

Whitney rolls his eyes. "You know what I mean. Just... stop playing with me, OK?" His hands are gripped into tight fists and his jaw is clenched. And he means it, he's sick of the other man toying with him. Playing with his emotions like this. Whitney wishes he was a stronger man because at the moment the thing he'd like to do most is to just tell Lex Luthor to fuck off. But he doesn't, he can't. Because he knows that no matter how embarrassed he is, how angry he's feeling right at the moment, none of it matters. He knows what he wants and at the moment Whitney wouldn't be surprised if he'd do almost anything to get it. 

Lex leans in, thumb rubbing Whitney's cheek. "Whitney ... If I'd known you didn't want to play I wouldn't have invited you here in the first place." 

Without even thinking Whitney leans into the touch. Until he remembers exactly what Lex has done and that Clark is still there in the house. Probably wondering what the hell is going on. Although he's sure Lex has covered that up perfectly. He pushes Lex, turning away. 

"Fuck off Lex, just fuck off." He tries to keep his voice low, to not attract attention but at the moment Whitney's finding it hard to control his emotions. 

Lex just stands there, waiting. He knows Whitney's not going to leave. He can see it in his face, in his body. Whitney's conflicted alright, but he's not going anywhere. Quite the opposite in fact, he's just standing there, frozen to the spot. 

Whitney sighs. "Why do you have to make this so difficult?" 

Lex's voice sounds low, with a tone that's more akin to a father giving advice. "Hasn't society taught you that nothing that's really worth having is ever easy?" 

Whitney's shoulders slump, he's looking utterly defeated. "What is it? What do you want from me?" 

Lex moves in behind him, one hand on Whitney's hip, thumb rubbing in circles there. "I would've thought that was fairly obvious, Whitney. Or am I doing something wrong here?" Hand still gripping his hip and with the other one he lifts up the back of Whitney's hair, lips brushing over Whitney's skin and the fine hairs on the back of his neck. 

Whitney's breathing's becoming laboured and Lex can hear his voice hitch when he speaks. "Why did you invite him here? I know this is more than a coincidence." 

Lex's tongue starts to trace patterns on Whitney's neck. "But I thought you..."one long lick, "...liked Clark." 

Whitney turns around, totally exasperated. He grabs Lex's shoulders, like he's going to shake him, but he just holds him like that, holds him still. "Liked? Jesus, Lex. What are you trying to do to me? First you jerk me off, make me admit that I _want_ Clark and then you make me come here to see you..." 

Lex is laughing, "I haven't _made_ you do anything ..." He pauses. "Yet." 

"Okay then, you _tell_ me to come over and when I get here I find you've already invited Clark. What the fuck is going on?" 

"I told him that it was possible that you might have a try-out with the Sharks and that you and I had a lot to talk about and that that's why you're here. Clark won't miss us for a while. But if you'd rather go back to the study, Whitney, that's okay. I don't mind sharing." 

Whitney rubs his forehead. His head's hurting, like he's starting to get a headache. Yeah, a Lex-induced headache "Did it ever occur to you that _I_ might mind, Lex?" 

He feels Lex's fingers working at the buttons of his shirt. Whitney tries to push him away. He's struggling unconvincingly. He doesn't even manage to fool himself and stops trying, he's pretty much at the point now where trying to resist Lex just isn't going to work anymore. 

Lex laughs and ignores Whitney's half-assed attempts at pushing him away . He slides his hands under the material of the shirt the boy's wearing. Moves his hands over Whitney's chest, his fingers stroking him. Sweat-sheen over the skin and he bends down to lick at it. Brushes a thumb over one of the hard, peaked nipples. 

"I know what you want, Whitney." Sucks his collarbone hard enough to bruise and Whitney hisses, soft exhalation through his half-closed mouth. Lex licks up towards his ear, finds the groove behind it and just works his tongue back and forth. He hears Whitney's breathing change, become even more ragged. Lex pulls back a little and watches his face. "I also know that at the moment you'll take what you can get." 

He's rubbing Whitney's nipple, running a fingernail over it and that small movement makes Whitney gasp. He unconsciously rocks his hips forward and Lex grabs at Whitney's ass. Grinds his cock against him. 

"Oh shit, Lex... stop" But he doesn't and Whitney's moaning. Hardly able to form the words. "Not here, he's ... Clark's still here." 

Lex grins. "Do you want me to invite him to watch?" One more long grind and he can feel Whitney's cock twitch. "You know he won't mind. In fact, I think he'd rather enjoy it, I know _I_ would." He's pushing his tongue slowly into Whitney's ear and then out again, almost fucking him with it. 

Whitney's knees have most definitely turned to jello and his stomach's rolling over with lust so strong that he can barely stand any more, let alone string a sentence together. "You... he knows?" 

"Do you want him to know?" Lex is tracing one finger down Whitney's torso, slowly until he reaches the waistband of his pants and just... rubs. 

Whitney feels Lex thrusting his tongue in again, into his ear and he doesn't think he's ever felt anything so amazing. Lex's tongue is hot and wet and he's damned sure that none of his friends who are having sex have _ever_ had anything this good. It's like Lex has to be the best at everything. It doesn't matter what it is and although Whitney has never had sex before, he's almost positive that nobody could be better at this than Lex is. 

Whitney's still freaked about Clark. But the worry's fading, he knows that any more of this, what Lex is doing and he's just going to give in. "Lex, please?" He pulls away from him slightly. 

"Please what, Whitney? Please stop? Or please more?" He pulls Whitney's head down and just licks at his lips. Traces his tongue around them slowly, sucks Whitney's bottom lip into his mouth. Pushes Whitney up against the opposite wall and leans his weight against him. Full contact of his body resting against the other man's. He's never wrong. That day at the Farmer's Market was enough to show him that Whitney had been hiding some very significant things about himself. Whitney himself isn't capable of uncovering it, but Lex was pretty sure all it would take would be some carefully timed teasing on his part and Whitney would be aching for it, practically begging, just like he is now. 

Lex leans in, presses his lips against Whitney's as he moves his tongue slowly inside. He's taking his time, tasting him. Tongue swipes over teeth and hard palate and as he starts to suck on Whitney's tongue, Lex's hands move down. One rests on Whitney's hip and the other rubs slowly at his crotch. 

He stands back slightly, tongue swiping over his own upper lip, tasting sweat. Voice broken with lust, "if you want me to stop, just tell me, Whitney. You know the way out. I won't stop you from leaving." 

"No." Whitney's voice is a lot stronger than he expected. "I don't want to leave." 

"Good." Lex drops to his knees. Whitney just closes his eyes and leans back against the wall. 

"Don't close your eyes, Whitney, I want you to watch." Lex says as he starts to unzip Whitney's pants. He uses his other hand to slide Whitney's shirt up, exposing a tanned and muscular chest. Lex has the dirtiest grin on his face as he frees Whitney's cock and his eyes flick slowly over him. "You have a beautiful body, Whitney. I'm very impressed. Do give your coach my sincere thanks. All that training you do has _definitely_ paid off." 

Lex mouths his stomach, tongue tracing the lines of his abs, before he dips into his navel. Lex moves down and rubs his cheek against the side of Whitney's cock and now Whitney's whimpering so loudly, that it's just as well Lex'd told the staff to leave after both his guests had arrived. It's also fortunate that Clark's currently sitting in a room that's soundproofed, otherwise he might actually try and find out where those moans are coming from.. And Lex doesn't think Clark's teenage brain would quite cope with the image of Lex on his knees, debauching the quarterback, somehow. Makes him chuckle just thinking about it. 

"What's funny?" 

Whitney has such low self-esteem that he automatically assumes Lex is laughing at him. Pathetic really. Something he'll have to work on and Lex looks up at him, shaking his head. "Nothing for you to worry about, Whitney. Nothing at all." And with that Lex flicks his tongue briefly over the head of Whitney's cock. 

"Oh God. Lex, please..." Whitney moans and Lex moves his hand down, gripping his hip to steady him. 

Such a treat for Lex. So much tanned, smooth skin and it's all his. Pretty blonde quarterback just moaning and writhing for him. So wanton, so perfect. And just like he predicted, begging for him. 

"Oh, Whitney. You really do beg so prettily. And you taste... so good." 

Lex lowers his head again and dips his tongue into the slit, traces slowly back and forth along the underside before surrounding Whitney's cock with his mouth. Slides his lips slowly down the shaft and then back up again so that all that's left in his mouth is the head. Repeats the action, taking his time, listens to the noises that Whitney's making from above him. Lex loves the look on Whitney's face too, head thrown back against the wall. Eyes so much darker than they were before, mouth open, lips wet. 

Whitney's so far gone that he can't even manage to think. He'd always heard about how blowjobs could be the best thing ever for a guy, but he doubts the girls in Smallville are anywhere nearly as expert at this as Lex is. Lex's mouth is moving so slowly over his cock and it feels so incredible that he thinks he's going to start seeing stars. Pleasure so intense and like nothing he's _ever_ felt before. Nothing like when Lex jerked him off and certainly nothing like when he's alone at night, fucking his own hand. And he knows he's never going to be able to touch himself again without seeing Lex like this; mouth sliding up and down, hands gripping his hips so hard he's going to be bruised tomorrow. 

Bruises that Lex has given him, that he can touch as much as he wants and maybe he's sick but that seems like the hottest thing in the world right now. 

It seems so wrong to be standing there against the wall. Rich man on his knees sucking him off while Clark's in the same house. But far from that being a deterrent now, it's like an added bonus. It makes it better, hotter. Dirtier somehow. Completely unconsciously, he grabs hold of Lex's head, thrusting his hips back and forth. Follows the movement the other man's making as he slides Whitney's cock deeper into his mouth. Fucking him. 

And that extra movement puts him way over the edge. He can feel Lex swallowing around him, hard. Whitney is no longer able to hold back and he leans back against the wall for support. He practically keens as he comes, shooting down Lex's throat and gasping for air. 

"Oh Christ, Lex. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." He pushes Lex off. Looks down at him and he's wiping off the remainder of Whitney's come with his hand. Lex stands up slowly and grins. "Well, Whitney. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. I certainly didn't expect you _not_ to come in my mouth." He pauses. "And, like I said, you taste good." 

Lex grabs a handful of Whitney's hair, pulls him in and shoves his tongue into his mouth. Whitney's stomach rolls over again with lust and need. It's like Lex is fucking him, not kissing him. Whitney can taste himself on Lex's tongue and he never thought tasting himself on another person would be so unbelievably sexy, but it is. He still can't quite believe that Lex Luthor just gave him a blowjob. 

"Now," Lex murmurs against Whitney's mouth, "Back to the study. Clark must be bored out of his mind." 

"I... I'd better go it's late." Whitney gets his clothing into some semblance of decency again. But he doesn't move yet, just stands there, panting. 

"I'll tell Clark you said goodbye then." 

Whitney finally manages to walk away, can't quite bring himself to thank Lex. He wishes he knew what to say, but there is so much running around in his head right now that he can't think straight and there's no way he could face Clark right now. Not with his face flushed, breathing still not really under control and looking for all the world like someone who's just had sex. He's also never going to be able to be in the same room as Lex Luthor without seeing everything they've just done. He doesn't think he'll ever be able to see Lex without getting an instant erection, either. 

"Goodbye, Whitney." Lex calls after him. "I hope to see you very soon indeed." 

Lex couldn't be more thrilled with the way it's all turned out. Not only has Whitney been so easy to corrupt, but he 's so responsive and so very desperate. It's definitely not going to take any effort on his part to make sure the quarterback comes back for more. 

Oh yes, Whitney Fordman is definitely going to be a fun toy to play with. 

the end 


End file.
